Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of Your Fist
by DarkDefender89
Summary: Jax actually acts on his father's book. Jax/OC not typical. Brownie points if you recognize the title and can guess what lyrics it came from! R&R
1. Chapter 1

AU: Takes place after Jax reads the Emma Goldman quote. He actually acts on his father's book instead of continuing the way he is, especially when he meets someone who makes him rethink everything he thought he knew. Jax/OC . There's going to be anarchism and radical thought so if you think it will offend you don't read and bash it if you don't like just don't read. Also I only watched each episode once so correct me if I get some facts wrong.

**Chapter 1**

Jax had to step out of there and think, get some air. The patchover went well; he loved the club he just didn't feel so great about the direction it had been going. He didn't like the fact that he killed someone and at this rate there seemed to be violence everywhere he looked. He didn't mind fighting, fighting was necessary to live the life. But there were some places, dark tunnels, that he didn't want to go, but now that he was there he couldn't turn back.

It was peaceful outside. He took a drag on his cigarette and walked under a tunnel. The book he had been reading had said there was a quote under this tunnel, he wanted to see it for himself. He stood there under the tunnel, dirt under his feet and wind biting at the back of his neck. He read out loud: "Anarchism stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion and liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals." He felt a shiver up his spine.

His club, it was radical in a way, he guessed. They broke the laws, and they didn't get their money working 9 to 5 jobs. But they were in bed with the cops and he guessed there were no Starbucks to burn down but sometimes Jax couldn't help but wonder how much the sons actually changed, if anything. Something was missing, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He sighed; Clay would probably looking for him soon so he headed out.

Back inside the bar it was crowded and noisy. People were celebrating the patchover. It was time to head back to Charming. The guys got on their motorcycles and sped back to Charming. Briefly Jax wondered why there weren't any women who rode and fought as one of the sons. Could they truly call themselves anarchists if they didn't include women and called the women they let into the club "old ladies"?

**To be continued…**

**I know it's short but I'll write more when I can get my ideas more organized, I just wanted to get the idea out there. Tell me what you think! Also I forgot if there was any war/fighting after the patchover if there was I'll add that in the next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

2.

On their way home war broke out. It didn't feel right to patch the Nevada charter in and then leave them defenseless. So war broke out, and they shot their guns like minions, hiding behind barricades and _killing_ people.

But not that many people die and the club's okay, or at least the club's still the club, still Clay's club but not John Teller's club – when he died his ghost forgotten. His vision for the club was all but dead, a trail of dust in the wind. Shit, Jax can't even think of how the club can become what his father wanted, he didn't even know if he understood exactly what that _was._

They're back in Charming and its business as usual. Gun running, repairing bikes, same old boring shit. Jax decides he needs some time alone so he heads out on his bike. Outside the wind at his beck and call, white noise in his head tosses and turns. He rides aimlessly. He feels the road claiming his spirit as it had claimed that of his father's. The road took his father's life – or, having no home base took his father's life. He rides and it's getting late and before he knows it he realizes he's near a train yard just outside Charming.

He turns the engine off and gets off his bike. It's quiet and he appreciates that. He knows he has to get back soon before Clay and the guys start to wonder where he is, but he doesn't want to leave just yet. He thought he was alone but then he heard a noise coming from one of the bushes. Is it an animal? Something or someone anyways is stumbling around, soon Jax sees the figure and it's not an animal, it's a person. They're skin is dirty and Jax can't tell what gender they are at first glance. At second glance Jax decides that the figure is probably male but he can't be absolutely certain, but for now he'll refer to him as a he.

He doesn't look like he realizes he's been spotted. A heavy looking bag is on his shoulder. The skin on his face is pale and coated with dust and dirt but his eyes are alive, in fact Jax has never seen eyes as alive as this guys eyes before. It's a strange thought, Jax thinks, it's as if he's somewhere else and not here. Somewhere else entirely.

"Hey!" Jax calls.

The guy burst out into a sprint.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jax says. Jax pauses. This guy is obviously trespassing, he's probably scared of being found out. "Or turn you in," Jax adds.

The man visibly relaxes and sits down. Jax sits down next to him. Jax gets a closer look, yes, it's definitely a guy, a bit androgynous looking, but a guy.

"What are you doing here?" Jax asks.

"I could ask you the same question," the traveler responds, visibly relaxing seeing Jax's anarchism tattoos. "Looking to get out?" the traveler asks.

Jax nods at his bike. "Nah, I just needed some time to think. What are you doing?"

"I'm just waiting around for the next train. I got off the last one a couple hours ago and have been hiding since."

"Train? But there are no commercial trains here," Jax says, confused.

The traveler looks surprised. He raises his eyebrow, as if to say, but aren't you an anarchist?

"Freight train," the traveler says.

To be continued…


End file.
